One Night
by rtaylor23
Summary: A little inside look to what Finn is thinking after his and Clarke's night together in season 1. Lots of fluff and cute things. I ship Clarke and Finn so hard it's not even funny so here it is!


_**Well Hello Everyone! I am very happy you decided to read this! I very much hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Remember to review!**_

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><p>He watched her from across the room. She was asleep, curled in the sleeping bag they'd been sharing. He had grown antsy as he lay next to her. As much as he treasured the feeling of her thin fingers on his chest, curling and twisting every once in a while; her mind wrapped up in a dream, there was another. He had begun thinking about her after his and Clarke's night. She was asleep now and his mind wandered back. Back before he was a fool and decided to go on a space walk. Back when everything was simple; well simpler. Mind you they were still living in a space station that was dying from the inside out, but at least they knew how things went.<p>

Now 70 some odd teenagers and a hot head 20 something year old were alone in a place their people hadn't been for 97 years with a bunch of natives trying to kill them. And here he was thinking about his current night's entertainment and his past best friend. He scoffed lightly. _Best friend. _Girlfriend. Love of his life. Well, until now. He glanced back at Clarke as she stirred. She drew in a soft breath and the material covering her back slid off. As Finn watched the new skin appear his chest tightened and his fingertips began to tingle.

Suddenly a different face flashed before his eyes. Her skin, hair and eyes were brown. He blinked and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. The blond woman across from him moved again, this time letting out a low moan. He watched her carefully. Her fingers grasped the blanket drawing it up to her face and her body began to shake. He stood up slowly and crossed the room not wanting to scare her out of the nightmare. He knelt beside her, the face flashing in front of him again. This time he let it linger. Her face was contorted in fear, then anger, then back to fear in two seconds. He let his fingers touch the ivory skin of Clarke's shoulder, but all he saw was mocha flesh. She was sobbing more than usual with these dreams.

"Raven?" he said quietly.

"Clarke," he said giving her a firm shake.

"Raven it's alright, wake up."

"Clarke, come on."

All of a sudden his head ached, and he couldn't shake it. He sat back on his heels and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He could see them. Those chocolate eyes. Beautiful, daring, smart, unafraid, rambunctious. And her smile. God how he loved it. He could look at it for hours and never be tired of it. And her laugh was like the bells his mother used to hand around the apartment at Christmas time. Oh how he missed that laugh. There was nothing quite like it in the world. The way Raven bit her lip when she was frustrated or how she always found a project to work on when she was angry so she wouldn't punch someone.

His eyes opened again and found a hand on his arm. Clarke was staring up at him, her eyes afraid; her mind not completely extracted from the dream. As quick as it had come, the image of Raven was gone and he leaned over Clarke.

"What's wrong?" he asked her quietly, as if someone else was in the room with them.

She was beginning to tremble.

"Nevermind," he said as he lifted up the blanket and slid in beside her. "It wasn't real."

He pulled her slim body against his chest where she immediately latched her fingers securely around his waist. He could tell she was shaken by the dream. It couldn't have been the one that they all shared. It couldn't have been the one about a family member getting floated. Anyone who had seen that happen to someone was used to those dreams by now. Finn was sure it was something else. She was shaking terribly now, but she wasn't crying, Finn noticed. Weather it was just too horrible to cry about, or she was just incredibly strong, he didn't know, but he held her close to him anyway.

"Clarke?"

She leaned away from him slowly and propped herself up on her elbows. Her cerulean gaze was distracted and nervous.

"It was just a dream."

He traced her hairline with one finger, brushing the golden strands behind her ear and resting his palm on her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch then rested her forehead on his bare chest. He laid his head back on the pillow content for the moment to just hold her and run his palm down from the top of her head to the middle of her back. Her skin was smooth and vibrant. He figured much like his. On the Arc they hadn't had to work very hard. It was only in recent days that they'd been doing any kind of labor. He was curious however about her hands. He looked at his.

They were, for the moment free of blood or dirt, but the open blisters and cuts told enough of what he'd endured in recent days. He found Clarke's shoulder and ran his touch down to her hand where he lifted it to the dim light. Hers, much lighter toned than his, were easy to find the grime on. He ran his finger down a particularly large gash down the middle of her hand. It looked clean enough, but he wondered how she received it.

"Murphy threw some firewood at me. It was a bad catch," she said with a half grin.

"Or a bad throw knowing Murphy," he said testily.

Clarke chuckled and took her hand back so she could place it on his cheek. He watched her eyes until they were too close to see clearly, then he closed his and waited for their lips to connect. They never did, however. She just leaned her forehead against his and exhaled. He brought both of his hands up to the back of her head where he gently wound them into her hair. A scene flashed again behind his eyelids, but this time it was not of Raven.

_ He could feel his fingers wound into her hair, holding her face to the left so he could drop a trail of kisses along her collar bone. A soft moan escaped her, only urging him to continue. He ran his hand down her spine making her arch against him like a happy kitten. She pressed her breasts against him and threw her arms around his neck, gently nipping his earlobe. Then it was his turn to let out an animalistic sound. She brushed his dark hair back away from his neck so she had better access to it. Finn suddenly sat them both up, the blanket falling off her back as she pushed herself up above his head. He caught her face between his hands and looked into her bright eyes. They were foggy with lust. It was a beautiful thing to see. All that glittering passion; and it was all for him. She was all his. That statement hit him slowly, and then all at once._

"_Clarke."_

_ She grinned. She must have seen her hunger reflected in his eyes because she closed the space between them so quickly he barely had time to catch himself on the edge of the table before he fell back to the ground. Her lips crashed into his and there was a flurry of hair pulling, biting and grinding before they were both panting lying against one another._

Now, hours later as he stroked her hair and thought about that night and others he hoped they would have, he breathed a sigh of contentment. One that he felt her share.

"Get some sleep Clarke."

She looked up at him.

"We should go back."

He frowned sleepily at her and brushed her hair over her left ear.

"Tomorrow," he said then pressed his lips against her temple.

She nodded easily.

"Goodnight Finn."

"Night Clarke."

He hoped he would get to say that to her for a very long time.

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><p><em><strong>Remember to review!<strong>_


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